


A Patron on a Ship of Fools

by LateNightConversations



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateNightConversations/pseuds/LateNightConversations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple man thinks about his simple crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Patron on a Ship of Fools

**Author's Note:**

> Moving some of my work from another site. Enjoy.

_Oh captain, my captain._ I think I read that in a book somewhere once, or something like that. Anyways… that’s me, captain of this ship of fools. Sometimes I think I am too damn old for all this non sense. I swear sometimes they make me feel old beyond my years. I look around the common room at all of them, at my rag tag crew. Where do I start? I guess with that damn dog. He’s probably the most normal out of the whole bunch, kinda sad, seeing as he is an animal and all.

Ein. What can I say about that guy. He is brown, white and furry. The second stray to call this ship home. I’ll have to admit, at first I didn’t really want to take on a dog, they are just another mouth to feed, and then you have to clean up after them, kinda like a four legged kid. Then there was the first time I stepped in one of his little “gifts” on the flight deck, I swore I could have almost skinned him alive then and there. But it didn’t take long for me to warm up to the little guy. I could claim it was just his uncanny ability to utilize the given gift of sad puppy eyes, but that would be a down right lie. What won me over plain and simple is the fact that dogs love with all they have. They don’t judge, they don’t care about your short comings, and flaws. They are loyal to a fault, much like the “black dog” that I once was. Maybe I just felt a kindred connection of sorts. Though I’ll be damned if I’d let the others know that I let him into my room from time to time at night, to curl up on the bed and sleep next to me.

My steely gaze shifts next to the figure sprawled out beside the dog. A girl with fiery red hair taps away at her laptop, goggles over her eyes, plugged into a cyber world that I couldn’t even begin to fathom. Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV, that’s what she calls herself, one hell of a name if you ask me. She’s one odd duck, that much I can truthfully say. But she is a sweet kid none the less, and lord only knows how many bounties we may have missed out on without her help. I never really gave much of a thought about kids one way or the other, but I’ll admit, I’ve grown to have a soft spot for her. I can’t imagine a childhood like the one she seemed to have before joining us. Then again, I cant really imagine having a childhood like one might have with the likes of the rest of us. Maybe it’s best the she seems oblivious to some of the hardship and misery the rest of us put ourselves through. She truly is a beacon of optimism amongst our word weary ways.

The next victim of my room scanning is our resident violet hair gambler, Faye Valentine. Though her face is buried in a magazine as she sits across the room in the beat up yellow chair, I know those dazzling green eyes well. They can pierce right through you when she flies into a rage, or hold all the pain of a confused lost woman, that she thinks no one can see. They can even be mischievous when she thinks she’s being slick. Take now for instance. She keeps peering over her magazine, stealing glances at an oblivious Spike. She originally came aboard as a potential bounty, and why we didn’t turn her in once she returned to make herself at home I’ll never know. I take that back, when she applies herself she can be quite useful. She certainly knows how to use her “assets” to get what she needs on a hunt, and she ain’t half bad with a gun either. If only she could control her damn temper. Considering her gambling habits, her compulsive nature shouldn’t come as a shock. 

Last but not least, my eyes shift to the lanky man sprawled across the couch. A cigarette lazily rest between his lips, his eyes fixed on the ceiling fan above. Well that is except for each time he reaches over to the table to tap the ash from the end of his smoke. It’s at that moment that he takes the time to steal a quick glance at Faye. I wish they would just make awkward, uncomfortable eye contact and stop this nonsense, or do the adult thing and talk about whatever it is they have going on. It’s not my business anyways. What can I say about Spike? At times I envy his fighting style, he is just so calm, cool and collected in everything he does in life. So damn nonchalant, almost to a fault. He eats and sleeps more than any grown man I have ever met, almost like a damn baby, but he is one hell of a shot. Spike in many ways is an enigma, while I may consider the man a good friend, I have to admit I don’t know much about him. He was the first one to join me on this ship. For the longest time it was just the two of us. Bringing in bounties, drinking, doing manly guy things. But then that all changed. One by one they all trickled in. Ein, Faye, and Ed.

From my position in the door way I look them all over once more. This may be a damned ship of fools, but its my ship, I am the captain, and I guess that makes them all my fools. Or dare I even say it, my small dysfunctional family. Each of us playing a part to form the glue that keeps us all awkwardly bound. Family doesn’t have to be blood, and I think we are a true testament to that, or maybe age is just starting to make me too damn sentimental. Clearing my throat to get their attention, I let the smile drop from my face, my mouth setting in a hard line. 

“Come on ya lazy bums. Dinner’s on.” As I watch them all slowly drudge toward the kitchen, the smile returns to my face. I don’t think I would rather have it any other way.


End file.
